The Life of Resetti--Written in a Fred
by DaBraxMan
Summary: A story I wrote for fun on ACC. Not to be taken too seriously. It's mostly a test on my character portrayal skills. I hope you guys like it. Reviews concerning how well or poorly I portray each character are welcome. Constructive criticism is very much appreciated. Yes, the cover stinks.
1. Entry 1--Intro

Dear Diary,

Wait...what am I doing? "Dear Diary?" Oh, BOY. Listen, punk, I'm not gonna write about my secret crushes or my desires or stupid stuff like that! I'm a manly mole! Well, a mole-y mole, I guess. Oh, who cares?! The only reason I'm writin' in this stupid book is because Don made me. Somethin' about stress relief. I'll smack his happy-go-lucky little FACE with a nice, soft tomato and there's my stress relief...Oh, yeah, in case you don't know, Don's my...brother. I'm Resetti. But YOU, my stinkin' little confidante, can call me MISTER Resetti.

What...

What am I doin'?

I'm talkin' to a book.

Do I look like I got time to talk to a book? No, no I don't. I got a life to live. I got children to scare the life out of. Oh, yeah, you don't know about that scaring part. I'm not a ghost, even though I might'a sounded a little creepy. See. I'm a hero. A superhero, I guess. I ain't got no cape, but I'll fly through those tunnels! When somebody resets their game or forgets to save, I pop up and give them a good talkin'-to! And lately I've been givin' out grammar tips as a little bonus. Because nobody ain't got no grammar knowledge no more.

And I'm not gonna call you Diary. You're not a pansy book. If you were Don's book, you'd be a pansy book. But you're my book. So your name's Fred, now. DEAL WITH IT. Not that you can protest. You're a stinkin' book.

Oh, good, Don said I've written enough for today, so I'll shut up now. But still, he wanted me to make sure I "said goodnight." Oh, BOY.

Well, goodnight.

Oh, and one more thing...

If you DARE post any of this stuff on some extremely popular forum about Animal Crossing, our realm, ya won't like what I'll do! You won't like Resetti when he's angry! He starts speaking in third person!

Now...SCRAM!


	2. Entry 2--The First Broken Pencil

Dear Fred,

It's been a rough day today. Way too much resetting. It takes some twisted little punkola to take time and space and shred them to pieces with the push of a button. And I'm POSITIVE some people are doing it JUST to make me mad. No one listens. No one CARES. AND IT MAKES RESETTI MAD. ARRRRRRRGH

*somewhere outside the diary entry...*

"Brother, you're scribblin' awfully hard in that diary, you're not yellin' at it, are ya? You've only had it two days..."

"Uh, I'm just bein'...uh...expressive, Don. Yeah. Reeeeal expressive..."

*back into the diary entry...*

Lemme tell ya, that Don ain't no more helpful. He wants me to treat you like you're my first-born child or something. Fred, let me ask you something, mole-to-book. How many children ha-OK, wait, imagine yourself in a scenario where you're actually alive and ya see children every day. Now, how many parents relieve their stress by writing on their children? How many converse their problems with their children?

They don't.

Why?

Because the child IS the stress.

And he won't sit still enough to get written on.

And what sicko writes on their kid?

Lemme tell ya a little more about my job and about these kids that make my life a misery. I'm hanging out in the Reset Surveillance Center when all of a sudden, someone resets their game and this siren goes off and the red light goes flashing like some punk in a football field being chased by security...

IT'S SO BRIGHT, IT HURTS MY BRAIN!~

Oh. Woudlja look at that. My pencil broke and I had to go and get a new one. I can't help but feel that's gonna bother me a lot in the future. But anyways...

I tunnel through with the help of my super-duper Launchpad Chair and I'm sent straight to the front lawn of some twerp who decided to wreck time and space. Then I yell at him a little bit and tunnel back down. Whatta life, am I right?

Oh, good, Don said I can be done. So goodnight, Fred. Oh, and...one...last thing before I go.

I normally don't issue complaints about "your, you're" and "there, they're, their," but just keep in mind...there's a problem when they're not using their grammar right there! It makes them look stupid. You don't wanna look stupid, do ya, Fred? You're MY book.

Now...

SCRAM!


	3. Entry 3--Field of Flowers

Dear Fred,

The fresh air...the birds what with their chirping...the blue sky...

It gives me the sneezes.

I'm usually only half-out of the ground, and when I am this time of year, I sniff and snort until my sniffer can't snort no more. Butterflies gather around me because I'm sitting in a field of flowers per Don's recommendation I go outside and find a "peaceful" place. Bunnie said I looked "totally adorable." I glared at her until she ran away. I think she's scared of me now. Serves her right. Maybe she was scared because this field of flowers is her garden. Maybe I should get off the kid's blue cosmos. Yeah. Don't think that's growing back. Oops.

It's been relaxing, but also boring as all get-out. I went out and got a coffee and that's been about the highlight of my day. Met Ethan again and had a little chat with him. That little punk, he's all right. He doesn't reset too much, but he's done some other things in his past that I'm not too proud of him for. He's only reset on purpose once, according to him, but the siren certainly went off twice. I betcha he's a liar. Lies like a cowhide rug. Why do I see those in cows' homes anyway? And cow skulls! It's so sick! IT'S SO WEIRD! COWS ARE WEIRD, FRED, DON'T BE FOOLED BY THEIR CHARMS~

Ugh, I broke my pencil and had to borrow someone else's. This chick named Coco let me use hers. She...she and I met before. She doesn't talk much. When you meet her, you'll see why, the poor thing. I've never had to lecture her before, and boy I'm glad of it. She'd cry her poor eyes out. Eyes? I think she's got eyes. Eye holes. Kinda like a...gyroid. A, uh, pretty gyroid, of course. Like Lloid. He's not ugly. Real polite. Busts my chops.

Well, I think I wrote enough. I can't this fresh air and bright sunshine. Moles belong underground.

One more thing before I go...

Borrowin' ain't the same as stealin'. Make sure you get permission before you take something of someone else's, ya hear me?

Now...

SCRAM!


	4. Entry 4--Coco!

Dear Fred,

If it's all right, Mr. Fred, I'd like you to pass on a message to Mr. Resetti for me. I'll write it down here if that's ok. I'm Coco, by the way.

I saw that Mr. Resetti dropped his book as he was tunneling, apparently. There was a lone book in Acre B-3 and it was you, Fred. I'm sure he didn't mean to drop you. He seems to be taking good care of you besides this iron grip on your edges.

Well, I'm secretly really into literature and...and...I thought Mr. Resetti was writing a story! So I picked it up and began reading through it, even though I know I shouldn't have...and I'm sorry I did. I didn't know it was Mr. Resetti's private book and I'm very, very, VERY sorry. Please ask him to forgive me. I don't mean to make him angry and I thought...I thought I should confess. I'm very, very, very, very, VERY sorry.

However, I wasn't...very happy about his comment about my appearance. On the inside, I'm just as normal as any other rabbit. I was named Coco because I look like a coconut. I was born with this face, and I believe it's the one I'm meant to have, and it's not nice to make fun of people like that. Please let him know that my feelings are a little bit hurt not only by him...but by everyone else who thinks or says that. I don't mean to scare people. I just want to be friends.

I'm sorry for going on like this...it's just something I wanted off of my chest.

And one more thing...

I have a friend that's a cow. They aren't real cow skulls and the rugs are faux. Please don't insult them either. It's not nice.

Now...um...goodbye.


	5. Entry 5--Monochrome Vision

Dear Fred,

Well, I...guess ya got introduced to Coco! I didn't want you to meet ANYBODY, but what kinda writer keeps his stories concealed!? A dumb one, that's who! UNLESS HE'S WRITING A DIARY-er-JOURNAL.

But now I betcha she's REAL mad at me. Thanks a lot, Fred. You're really good at keepin' secrets. I thought doin' what you're told NOT to do was HUMAN nature, but I guess Freds of any species are born with this rebellious little punkitude. I guess I should go and apologize to Coco. ...I'll just wait 'til it blows off.

But Coco aside, lemme tell ya about Don! Ya thought he was weird before! THINK AGAIN, FRED. HE'S CRACKED AT LAS~

Arrrrgh! These stupid pencils are so annoying! I gotta start a WHOLE new paragraph or everything looks WEIRD. AND I DON'T LIKE IT WHEN THINGS ARE OUT OF PLACE, GET M~

ARRRGH! OK...calm down, Resetti...breathe...breathe...phew. I'm ok. But back to Don. He's done cracked at last. He was up all night watching black and white episodes of some stupid TV drama that was taped 60 years ago...he had his face smeared up against the TV with his mouth gaping open (OK, his mouth is usually like that, so that's not too weird). This morning, he starts seein' everything in monochrome. It all started when he told me, "Brother, that's a nice pair a' gray overalls. But YOU ain't lookin' so good. You're...like...really pale or somethin'." And I wasn't any more pale than usual, see. And my overalls are ALWAYS blue. I figured he was color-blind at first, but then he started sayin' my hairs was gettin' reeeeal gray. Then I KNEW somethin' was up. I was wearin' a hat. DON'T YOU COMMENT ON MY HAIR. I know I'm gettin' old, but I realize that on my own! I don't need a bunch of twerps commentin' about it! It's jerkin' my CHAIN, Fred! AND I DON'T NEED TO BREAK ANOTHER PENCIL!

But Don's been a wreck all day today. He thought it snowed last night, too, because of his new grayscale eyeballs. Tortimer got a little riled up trying to explain it to him. I ain't seen him so mad since that time Isabelle lost his election campaign speech. I tells ya, I had some competition that day when it comes to blowin' tops!

But anyways, we took Don to the doc this evening after the reset rush (yes, there's a reset rush). Dr. Shrunk claims he has a college education, but I don't believe him. He told Don to "drink lots of fluids and read magazines with LOTS of pictures in them." He gave him a whole stack to look at to "restore the color in his eyes." I don't know what he means by that. It's one of those girly magazines with models all over. Looks like trash to me, but Don sure didn't seem to mind. Dr. Shrunk seems more like a perspiring comic than a doctor.

I'm a great impressionist, by the way. I showed my talents off in some fighting tournament. I was hired as a...what was it again? System trope? I can't remember. But what does it matter? No one cared. Everyone kept fightin'. I dunno what they were fightin' for, but they were sure into it. Except for this blue porcupine guy that kept blaring "YOU'RE TOO SLOOOOW" at the top of his lungs over and over again while running in place. I...don't think I like him. He...rubbed me the wrong way, y'know? Kinda like...mixing guacamole and ratatouille. It's not a good combination.

But I think I'm through for the night. My wrist hurts and I gotta sleep. I wonder what Don's doin'? He ain't made a peep all night.

Well, Fred, I'll just leave you here at my desk tonight. I think I can trust Don. He's serious about this diary journal stuff.

Oh, but one last word of advice...

People like to say, "I could care less" to say that they don't care about somethin'. But if you could care less, that means you still care. You COULDN'T care less. But people SHOULD care about that little mistake. Got me?

Now...

SCRAM!


	6. Entry 6--Don!

Entry #893

Dear Diary,

Help, I'm seeing everything in monochrome! I dunno why it's still going on, but ever since I watched this drama last night that was in black-and-white (great series, check it out sometime), it's seared into my brain! It BOTHERS me, diary!

But I'm still worried about Sonny. He's been writing in his diary with such force! Maybe it's relieving his tension some. I hear he made polite conversation with Coco. I'm sure it made her day.

But lemme tell ya about that drama I watched...maybe it'll get my mind off of it to just tell someone about it who cares. And I know you care, Diary.

Now, there was this girl named...oh...it was...I can't remember. Lemme go back and check. I wrote a little preview about it that I saw in the newspaper last night about it, maybe I mentioned her name...I gotta remember!

WAAAAUGH

OH, SNAP

I'm sorry, Sonny! Er...Sonny's diary! Fred! Sonny! Whoever! I must not have noticed it was yours because of my monochrome vision! Don't worry, I didn't peek any more than two pages! I wouldn't read this anyway...it's serious stuff!

I'll stop now...so sorry! Don't burn my pancakes for this!


	7. Entry 7--Intruder Alert

Dear Fred,

Well. I guess I done jinxed it. I SPECIFICALLY pleaded the old, "Ohhhhh, I can trust my own brother because he takes things SERIOUSLY..."

And why, pray tell, would he have went OVER to my desk—which is, mind you, MY desk with MY things—DUG around IN MY THINGS, and found you laying on my desk beside that box of pizza from last week? I dunno. Maybe, perhaps, his finger slipped. Wait, that's for resetting...maybe his memory slipped. Maybe he was sleep-deprived from the big day we had yesterday. At least he said he was sorry, unlike those reset-happy little punks. RESET RESET RESET! And every time I come to lecture them, it's TAP TAP TAP! Pressing that A or B button to make me blab faster! The most I've counted is 10,457 times by some kid named Penny. I think I hate that button-happy punk. I hate a lot of people, come to think of it. Maybe that's why Don doesn't think I'm healthy. Oh, well. Maybe'll I'll get to retire soon! Ha ha h~

Really? Another pencil? I think I should get one of those mechanical pencils...and I'll never stop talking! It's a resetter's worst nightmare! I wonder if they have mechanical vocal chords, because my throat has hurt for years now...

WHOA.

Someone's comin' in the Reset Center!

INTRUDERS?!

INTRUDERS MY HAT!

CODE 256! I gotta go wake up Don!

*5 minutes later*

It was some (probably reset-happy) punk who thought he'd go "exploring" because Don left the manhole cover open again! I told him a thousand times that leaving the cover up gets GERMS in! Anyway, Sir Peek-A-Lot wouldn't scram until I gave him a silver shovel as a, uh..."peace offering." What a weirdo.

But I'll shut up. You're probably tired of my yappin' by now, right? Not as interestin' as monochrome vision, am I right?!

Well, I'll go, but not without saying one last thing...

I...really...watched my language today. Don's my brother, and I respect him A LITTLE BIT more than most other folks. But if he writes in my journal again, he'll never have another well-cooked pancake as long as he's still tunneling!

Now...

SCRAM!


	8. Entry 8--Derek Strikes

DEAR STINKIN' FRED

OH, I'M SO MAD.

SO VERY ANGRY.

I BROKE A PENCIL BEFORE~

BEFORE I WROTE THE ENTRY! ARRRRRGH~

I've met my match today. He's 14 years old, dark-haired, and I'm POSITIVE he has red eyes...he's...DEREK.

The little punk-NO! Punk is too low term. In fact, I have so many names for him I can't write them down! I'd get fired! THEY'D FIND OUT. The little~

The little hacker...that spitwad ain't just no stinkin' Action Replay "hacker," OHHHHH no. He spreads seeds like spores offa the fungus he is, and half the people in this town are animals I don't even recognize...one of them looks like and has the same name as Sonic the Hedgehog but he's a lion...and he had this Pikachu helmet on that looked just like the cat hat thing...and I don't recall Crazy Redd running Nookway! HE WAS SELLING A LIGHTSABER. And why was Saharah running the museum?! I'll tell ya why...he's a GOOD FOR NOTHIN' LITTLE TROLL, that's what he is...he's such a Derek...it's an evil little name for an evil little boy...in fact, he's not just Derek, he's DEREK.

I met him this afternoon, at 3:04:56 PM. The current was heading northward. No, not the wind, the CURRENT. I popped up underwater!

The whole TOWN was underwater. It took me twenty minutes until I reached his house IN THE WALL.

I tried givin' that little DEREK a piece of my mind about his activities but he just stood there wigglin' around like he had to go potty, staring straight ahead and not caring. So, I tried makin' him parrot off embarrassin' stuff back to me like "I love Resetti!" and "I'm a stupid little hacker!" But he changed them all up and made me MAD. Then he entered and exited his house and suddenly I blacked out! I woke up in the Reset Center, tunneled back, and BOOM, there was a tree right where I was standing, of all the nerve this little...ARRRRRGH~

I can't TAKE all of these snappin' pencils! I'm makin' a rut in the floor from me pacin' back n' forth to get more WRITIN' STICKS so I can WRITE about this little...this little...DEREK! And if he thinks he's gonna get away with his crimes...HE'S GOT ANOTHER THINK COMING!~

AAAARRRRRRRGH! I'm goin' to bed, Fred! Grandmama mole is comin' over tomorrow and I CAN'T STAND THAT WOMAN. But I got ONE LAST THING.

You punks think swag is cool? NO! The only coolness you got is that draft from your saggin' britches!

Now...

SCRAM!


	9. Entry 9--Grandmama Mole

*sigh*...Dear Fred...

What a day. What a day. Boy am I glad Grandmama Mole is gone...finally I can have some peace and quiet and not be yelled at for every thing I do. It's...really annoyin'. Lemme tell ya about this chick.

Well, she's no "chick" I guess, but she's not necessarily the most respected member in our family. I'm certain most people don't care too much for her, even though they put on their nice face for the lady. Everyone thinks I'M bad. At least I ain't callin' kids everywhere fat and unmannerly...ok, maybe I do sometimes. But only when they deserve it! Do I deserve any of what she tells me? No! No I don't!

First off, I get this feelin' Don's her favorite. She never burns HIS dinner when she comes to cook...but she cooks mine juuuust past how I like my foods. At first, I pretended not to notice...but after I told her exactly how I like them all polite-like, she told me somethin' like...

"You don't know what ya like, Sonny! Let Gramma Mole do the cookin'! You could stand some change anyway, how do you clip your diggin' claws?! I bet ya can't even see the ground ya walk on! Why can't you be more like your brother and slim up a bit?"

I countered with a polite and quiet rebuttal that she was no skinny mole herself, and she responded by making me sit in the corner for twenty minutes and think about what I said. I'm over forty years old and she can still make me do that somehow. I dunno where the authority comes from. Maybe I oughta sic her on Derek...one of us will benefit in the long run. Ha ha ha ha!

But that ain't all she's done. She reads us bedtime stories before she leaves. Somehow, in her fragile, senile mind, she is convinced that, despite our grayin' hairs and medical problems (well, MY medical problems, Don has OTHER problems), she gets this idea that we haven't really grown up and that we need a parental figure. The story this time was _Seagull Seaman_, some story about a pirate that eventually met an alien and started flyin' around in a UFO. Then some punk-o kid shot down the UFO with his slingshot, and they worked together to find his ship parts with the super power of teamwork, yaaaaaaay...

Don was sittin' on her lap the whole time. He ALWAYS got to sit on Grandmama Mole's lap, but no, not I. Not this mole. I sat on the floor, subservient to the will of the mighty Grandmama Mole. I asked politely how come I never got to sit on her lap. She took one look at me and griped...

"I only got two good legs, Sonny, I can't afford to break one now."

Another weight comment. I told her I NOTICE what I've got. Then she says to me...

"Well, why ain't ya done somethin' about it then? It's for the good of everyone! You'll smother to death one of these days from not bein' able to take a peek over that mountain of yours called a gut! You look like you're with child!"

I kept my mouth shut for the rest of the night. Ya can't fight Grandmama Mole. She fights back. With a dishtowel. Yeah. We've had a history.

But yeah, it's been a long day and I need my sleep. But just one last thing...

Don't let Grandmama Mole I wrote in ya-NO! WAIT! Don't tell her you EXIST. You're an English-Spanish dictionary around her...OK, señor Fred?

Now...

SCRAM!


	10. Entry 10--Court Summons

Dear Fred,

Today has been a problem. I got a court summons! Yeah, ME. What did I do? Apparently I hurt this little kid's feelings and her mother is suing me for emotional distraught or something...are these punks serious? They'll sue because I hurt someone's feelin's? What kind of world do we live in? Back in my day, we'd just gripe back at someone instead of take 'em to court! That kid was the one who reset, and she should expect a good talkin'-to! I didn't make the rules.

Don decided to act as my lawyer. He went to lawyer school for three months when he was a younger mole, so he thinks he has the experience. We went to court and, well, I managed to get ahold of the whole thing on paper...so here, I'll copy it down, word-for-word, here.

Bailiff Booker: Um...court is uh, started for, uh, um...the uh, case between, uh, The Reset Survellience Center and, uh, the Makoto family. Judge, uh, Mayor Tortimer presiding. Uh, I think...

Judge Tortimer: Very good! Now, all you sit down and have a gander at these folk. Now, uh, to start things off...Mrs. Makoto, what seems to be the problem between you and the Resettis?

Makoto: Well, your honor, my daughter accidentally reset her game-

Judge Tortimer: RESET? GUILTYYYYYYY-

Makoto: WAIT A SECOND, I'M NOT FINISHED! Anyway...she was unable to save her game because the weather was stormy and the power got knocked out...and here he comes, yelling at my daughter, accusing her of things she didn't do! My darling Diana has been having nightmares about a scary groundhog man! This man is a MONSTER and deserves to be put in jail for putting not only my daughter, but millions of other children in such emotional torment!

Judge Tortimer: Yepper, sounds like you got an issue on your hands! I wish I could help you, ma'am, but-OH! Right...I'm the judge! I can! Hehh hehh hehhh HORFF! Now, Mr. Don Resetti? Your side?

Don Resetti: Yes, your honor. Mr. Resetti did not mean any emotional harm towards the child, and was only doing what his job demands that he do...try to coax, through verbal communication, to stop players from resetting their game or quitting without saving. Even if the child made a mistake and played during a storm, she, or her guardian, should have known better to try to save and quit early before the power got knocked out. Therefore, the issue is not the Resettis responsibility, but rather an issue the resetters, purposefully or not, must deal with.

Judge Tortimer: Hm...sounds legit to me! Now, uh, someone do the witness part. Mrs. Makoto, call your witness.

Random lady in the back: THROW HIM IN JAIL!

Makoto: HER! I call her as my witness!

Judge Tortimer: Very well. Now, come on up, sprout.

-The lady comes up now, see? And Copper, the police dog here, tells the woman to give this oath or somethin'.

Copper: Now, do you solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help y-

Lady: You bet your beagle behind I do!

Judge Tortimer: Now, now...he's a Labrador. Now, sprout...what's your name?

Lady: You can call me Grandmama Mole, 'cause that's just about what everybody else calls me!

Judge Tortimer: ...[color=gray] Yepper, we got ourselves a crazy one! [/color] NOW. Mrs. Makoto, take it away.

Makoto: Yes, your honor. Now, Miss Mole-

Grandmama Mole: Oh, you can call me Grandmama, sweetheart.

Makoto: Yes...Grandmama. Is Mr. Resetti a relative of yours?

Grandmama Mole: Yes, that fat little runt is my grandson.

Makoto: Yes, and...h-how would you describe Mr. Resetti?

Grandmama Mole: Selfish, rude, angry. Disrespectful to his grandmama!

Makoto: Do you think he had the right to give my little girl nightmares after what she did was just an innocent accident?

Grandmama Mole: Absolutely!

Makoto: Thank y-...Wait, w-what?!

Grandmama Mole: Your offspring was silly enough to play in a thunderstorm...she had it comin'! He was just doin' his job like a good mole. When someone resets, Resetti has to go and gripe at 'em. I'm proud of him for what job he does, even if it does hinder his social skills.

Judge Tortimer: YOU MEAN TO TELL ME THAT CHILD IS A RESETTER?! GUILTYYYYYYY

Makoto: WAIT! WAIT! The trial isn't over!

Judge Tortimer: Oh. Right. Uh, Don, go ahead and call your witness! Thank you, Grandmama Mole, that was real good.

Grandmama Mole: Yeah? Come up and see me sometime, you soft-shelled hunk of tortoise.

Don Resetti: I'd like to call Timmy Nook to the stand!

Sonny Resetti: Don? Where are you goin' with this?

Don Resetti: He's trustworthy, and doesn't hate anybody who gives him money.

Sonny Resetti: Ahhhhh, trustworthy to US!

Judge Tortimer: I can hear everything you sprouts are saying. Wait, I can hear?! EUREKA! I've been cured! Uh, right, witness. Come on up!

-Timmy Nook comes to the stand-

Copper: Do you promise to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so-

Timmy Nook: Yes! I ALWAYS tell the truth! Honesty is the best policy! [color=gray]So honest![/color]

Don Resetti: Now...Mr. Nook, do you know Mr. Resetti?

Timmy Nook! Oh, yes! He comes to shop at T&T Mart every week! [color=gray]So faithful![/color]

Don Resetti: Yeah, and your uncle is Tom Nook, am I right?

Timmy Nook: You ARE! You ARE right!

Don Resetti: Now, how would describe him?

Timmy Nook: He likes money!

Don Resetti: NO, I mean my brother!

Timmy Nook: DO NOT SHOUT, IT HURTS US! Now...um...Mr. Resetti is very loyal! He is a bell-pinching sort, but he always comes to buy our fortune cookies! Many play coins are spent, yes!

Don Resetti: What kind of person do you think he is?

Timmy Nook: I think he is misunderstood, like my uncle! And also very rich! However, he speaks very roughly, like sandpaper! It hurts our ears! He is a very busy man, but he must smile more! Like the Nooklings! [color=gray]Like me![/color]

Don Resetti: Uh...yeah. Yeah. I think we're done here. Thanks, Tommy.

Timmy Nook: TIMMMEEEEEEHHHHHHHHHH-

Don Resetti: Timmy! Timmy! You're Timmy!

Judge Tortimer: Thank you, Timmy! Now, we will leave the jury to discuss whether Resetti here is guilty or not guilty. We will take a five minute recess! There's a playground for all you kiddies to-huh? Not that kind of recess? Acorns! I wanted to get on the see-saw...

-five minute recess-

Judge Tortimer: Uh, ok, we're back with the case! Or whatever. Now, speaker for the jury, what do you all plead?

Saharah: Yes, judge man! We are saying that mole man who yells at the resetty peoples is of guiltiness! Please you to jail him forever!

Judge Tortimer: Very well. I-wait, you're not from around here...who ARE you?

Saharah: Yes! I come from far away. I come to be jury woman lady!

Judge Tortimer: Not a citizen?! ILLEGAL IMMIGRANT! GUILTYYYYYYYYYYYYY! You are hereby sentenced to TEN WHOLE MINUTES OF TACKLING! EVERYONE ATAAAAAAAAAAAAAACKKKKKKKK!

And she couldn't write no more because she had to tackle that foreign chick. The Makotos are in jail now because they didn't tackle her. ...I didn't write the laws. Wait, did anyone?

I don't have much else to say, so...

SCRAM!


	11. Entry 11--Wishing Well

Dear Fred,

AAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!~

STUPID PENCILS! Why won't these things jus~

ARRRRR~

OK. Oookay. Wanna know why I'm angry? I bet you do! It's your job, Fred! DEREK, that's why! He~

He reset again today. I certainly wasn't comin' for a courtesy call! I wouldn't touch the little vermin with a ten-foot pole unless I was hittin' 'im with it! But he arranged some little prank when I got up there, and I think it was a pitfall. Normally, people fall down pitfalls, see? Well, now they're called pitfall _seeds_ because everyone thought that game called Pitfall was here and they had to simplify it. But I call them pitfalls, and that's good enough for both of us, isn't it, Freddy Boy!?

But anywho, normally people fall DOWN these gags. Have you ever tunneled UP one? It's a trip, lemme tell ya! I didn't know I could move that way, and honestly, I don't wanna re-experience that whole charade. We clear?

But then I see him when I get the dirt outta my eyes and he's wearin' clothes just like mine! He starts yellin' at me for stuff I would normally be yellin' at HIM for, and he's swingin' around this pickaxe like a madman! I'm positive I heard thunder in the background...the good for nothin' hacker. So weird...

But whatever. I just gotta relax. I'm takin' pills now the size of Wyoming! I'm about to take one now...I just hope they don't fall into the Wishing Well here. I'm sittin' on it, see? What? I can do that! Only one guy fell in during the entire history of this well, and that's only because he was hit in the face with a pie during one crazy Harvest Festival! Well, OK, maybe I've only [i]heard[/i] of that one. But whatever. I WHOA MY POCKET ALARM IS GOIN' OFF! Sorry Fred, I'll leave you here between these stones in the well here and I'll be right back! Don't talk to strangers!

...Fred...

...My identity is not important, nor must you ask how or why I'm writing in your pages. As for why, I shall tell you, your owner has carelessly forgotten you. Fortunately, no one has opened you, though you have caught attention. I advise you, and your owner, Mr. Resetti, to be very careful.

...What? So I peeked. Alas, I'm not perfect, but your secret is safe with me and the whole internet.

And as your owner often leaves you advice before you leave, I, too, will impart with you valuable information.

In areas where there is very little green...a feeling of despair overshadows all else. Go to Acre C-5 to see what is amiss.

Now...

Farewell!

Uh, Fred? Remind me to check the side effects of those pills...

Now...

SCRAM!


	12. Entry 12--Resetti Disses Dreamies

I'm not in my own little area tonight, as you can see. Don suggested we camp out for the night. I dunno where he got the idea from and I don't know why I'm doing it. Apparently it's "good for the body to be outdoors!" Yeah? I'm outdoors yellin' my head off at a bunch of nasty kids EVERY STINKIN' DAY and I don't exactly feel "one with nature" like Don thinks he does. Who does he think he is? Pascal? That dude's a weirdo.

But anywho, we're right outside the Reset Center camping, and we've got our own little pocket alarm. The one in the Reset Center flashes and blares loud, painful noises...this one vibrates like a magnitude 12 earthquake and affects me like said earthquake would affect a game of Jenga. Suddenly, I'm a belly dancer. It's no fun, Fred.

This out-of-town kid popped into our tent today asking if he could get us to move into his town... Who let this guy play Animal Crossing?! I've seen those kind of punks before. Seriously, Fred, I'm gettin' sick of all these punks who think they can just trade and auction off livin' creatures so they can get on other people's "dreamie list." Ugh. That hurt just writin' it!

Y'know what? I'm gonna talk about this for a while. It ain't my job to talk about this, but I feel like doin' it anyway. What, you're gonna protest? Gah ha ha ha ha! Maybe some twerp who picks you up and peeks again will read this and get a grip.

When ya play Animal Crossing, ya make friends, and there's no other choice. At some point in this game, you will be talking to a villager and likely become attached somehow to said villager. Many people who just start out meet their villagers and get attached to some, don't like others, and simply wait for the disliked villagers to move along. That's the way it used to be.

Then there are others. There are others who don't~

There are others who don't play this way. No, they have their whole population planned out before they even start out. You can merely wish someone will move in...you may merely pray that the campsite will have your "favorite" inside, waiting to meet ya at last, having grown about a foot since you saw them on your TV screen two days ago. BUT THEN THERE ARE OTHERS WHO DON'T DO THAT. They refuse to like such-and-such because his or her appearance, alas, is not pleasing to the eyes, and thus he or she must be henceforth banished from so-and-so village. Said villager is not one of your "dreamies" but may be someone else's. Some people, Fred, trade items through Wi-Fi. Some do. Many do. SOME ALSO TRADE THEIR OWN NEIGHBORS.

The main problem with our society today, Fred, is, other than obvious lack of patience (which I also, admittedly, lack), the inability to cope...with ANYTHING. When life hands 'em lemons, do they want lemons? No. Lemons are too sour, and making lemonade is too much work. They want limes handed to them, because lemons are too sour, and they want limeade made quickly and easily. So they refuse life and its lemons, shutting out all lemonkind instead of figuring out what those lemons are even for. So when people have a neighbor they don't like, they control them and make them move into a town whether they like it or not. They have no freedom. Isn't freedom what this "fantasy" world is all about? I don't care that they're animals. They act more humane here now than most people do. They deserve just as much freedom as you. If ya lost a "dreamie", let it GO. If they were so special to ya, ya would have made sure they stayed what with your stinkin' human guilt trips.

We clear? Good. I needed that offa' my chest ever since Nintendo pulled this whole "politically correct" stunt. I can't believe them. You'd think as time goes on, people would get stronger. But no. I make little schoolgirls cry. Not only that, I get taken to court for it. I'd rather make them laugh then be taken to court. I make most people laugh. I feel like a failure sometimes. I never get the message through. No one listens. They're entertained by me. DO I LOOK LIKE A HAPPY-GO-LUCKY CIRCUS CLOWN TO Y~

These pencils drive me crazy! GUILTYYYYYYY, as the mayor would say.

Now, I'm goin' to bed. My head hurts from all this spring stuff. I'm not an outdoor kinda mole. But one last thing before I hit the sack...

Love your neighbor! No exceptions!

We clear? Good! Now...

SCRA~

OH, REALLY. IT HAD TA BREAK TH~

ARRRRRG~

...Good NIGHT, Fred.


	13. Entry 13--The Fan-Input Entry

-This entry was made after a small absence, and multiple people requested to be in the story. So I obliged-

Dear Fred,

Whoa, it's been a while, Fred, ol' pal. I've been too busy with these resettin' kids. It's just that time of year when all the kiddies get spring fever...so they take out their stress on the reset button. Maybe they want me to do their ragin' for 'em. WELL I AIN'T GOT SPRING FEVER. I knew it'd be early this year anyways. I got this knack with predicting the seasons. Mostly spring.

But lemme tell ya about this chick, Cassie...whatta load a' trouble! She's reset 12 times already (I count 'em! THAT'S RIGHT, CASSIE, I COUNT 'EM) and she always acts like she don't remember. She lies like a cowhide rug.

Then there's Krystal...I think she has some sorta brain damage or somethin'. Nothin' too bad, I've seen worse...but it's like she can't handle bein' interrogated. She just shuts down and starts tryin' to talk about somethin' else. "Oh, heyyy, Mr. Resetti! Lovely weather today isn't it?"

YOUR CONSCIENCE IS THE ONLY THING HERE WEATHERIN' AWAY I CARE ABOUT.

And then there's Alana, who puts her guilt on the younger sibling, who goes off and cries because I start yellin'. Honesty. What happened to honesty?

But wait! There's MORE. Then there's Rebecca. She tells me the battery keeps dying on her. I smell her lies. Amidst all the dirt I gotta tunnel through, I smell her dirty little lies. I think she's just tryin' to get out of gettin' yelled at...but THAT WON'T ALWAYS WORK. IF THE RED LIGHT FLASHES, TO THE SAVE BUTTON YA DASHES.

Then there's one more kid I dealt with just the other day...Kelsie? Maybe? She's kinda new. Her little sister kept buggin' me, askin' if I'm in some sort of intimate relationship...well, YEAH. I got a girl...but I ain't tellin' her that. It's about time some kid dreamt about this hunk of mole without givin' 'em nightmares...one less kid that'll take me to court! GAH HA HA HA HA!

Oh, look at the time...I gotta hit the sack. But I'll say this one last thing...

Don't always use a comma to make a pause in a sentence. Use an ellipse. You know...what I just used. It ain't hard.

Now...

SCR~

OH, REALLY. IT HAD TO BREAK THERE AG~

ARRRRRGH~

Just scram already.


	14. Entry 14--Derek Strikes Again

D~

D~

DE~

DEAR FRED,

I AM INFURIATED, DISGUSTED. AND APPALLED AT WHAT I SAW TODAY. THAT T~

THAT "THING"! YA KNOW WHO I'M TALKIN' ABOUT! THAT DEREK!

I already got tons of resets ALL DAY TODAY, Fred. Spring Fever is gettin' these teenage kids nearin' their Spring Break...AND THEY'RE DRIVIN' ME CRAZY! Why can't these kids just SAVE! Take out irritation on the flowers instead of reset reset reset! ARRRRGH~

I'm gonna go ta Nookington's tomorrow to get myself a mechanical pencil. It's driving me crazy too! But the worst part of today was DEREK.

He reared his ugly hacker side again! He was wieldin' this crayon and the grass was GRAY. GRAY, FRED! THAT'S NOT NORMAL! There was a Nook's Cranny on top of Nook n' Go, on top of Nookway, on of Nookington's! HOW DOES HE DO IT AND HOW DOES IT WORK?!

I warned 'im good this time...I told him that if he didn't cut out the hackin', my cousin Vicious Vole Vinnie will have a go at 'im! And Vicious Vole Vinnie is VICIOUS. But he just drew a mustache on my face with his fancy crayon...and poked me in the eye...and whacked me upside the head...WHATTA JERK.

I'm just so mad! I gotta go to sleep. Remind me to get one a' them stress squeezy buddies. And I'll let ya alone after I say this...

People like to say "I'd like to axe ya a question." But ya see, it's "ASK." Don't axe people, Fred.

Now...

SCRAM!


	15. Entry 15--Tom Nook!

Loyal Patron Mr. Fred,

I regret to inform you that your owner, Mr. Resetti, has dropped you in the middle of my store, Nookington's. I've heard of a book like you being dropped everywhere...you should tell him to be more careful, yes?

Oh, I beg your utmost pardon! I have neglected to introduce myself. I'm Tom Nook, owner and proprietor of Nookington's (in select locations) and Nook's Homes (in other locations, please look for a raccoon in a sweater vest). I sell things and build houses. Yes, yes...I'm a pretty important raccoon! Ho! Ho!

Now, my conscience is usually rock-solid, but when I considered the gruff tone of voice, yelling across the store, and dirty footprints your owner left all over my clean floor...I made a deal with my conscience, hm? I'm good at making deals...if I wasn't, how could I be such a great salesman? Well, salesraccoon. Whatever.

But please let Resetti know that if he displays any more rude behavior in my store again...just tell him to keep in mind that I can build very nice, large houses right outside his Reset Center...oh, yes. Very LOUD houses. With parties. All-nighters, hm?

So please let him know this, and I'll just drop you outside the manhole (or rather, molehole, as the case may be) and I'll let Resetti pick you up when he searches frantically for you like me searching for my wares on sale day. And I'll leave everyone with one last tidbit for whoever else picks you up, Fred...

Friends are forever, but money passes away! Make sure you gather up as much as what's truly valuable to you as possible, or you'll never find true happiness!

Are we most clear? Good! Now...

SCRAM!

You know, like he'd say.


	16. Entry 16--Last Entry

DEAR FRED,

I CANNOT BELIEVE THAT CHEATING LITTLE BUSHY-TAILED CHEAPSKATE DID THAT. APPARENTLY, one must be careful about what one writes in his private, personal Fred. One may find there IS no privacy for the weary! I would have never found ya if I hadn't noticed you right on top of the manhole the other day.

And the worst part? Derek is an every-day punk now. Every day, he tries something new. He tried even bribing me! YA CAN'T BRIBE RESETTI. HE'S A BIG, FAT, DIRTY, NO GOOD LITT~

You know what? That's it. THAT'S IT! Fred, you ain't helped me none! Coco hates me, my brother is still weird, I'm bein' taken to court, these pencils are too expensive, and people are invading my privacy! You're supposed to be a stress reliever! Well, I only have a few more pages in you anyway. Ya tried, and I appreciate the thought anyway, Fred, ol' buddy. But ya failed, too!

I've been working hard with my brother to make a special invention. A fella I don't really have to lecture much is...real close to us, ya know what I'm sayin'? Not just me and Don, but the whole Animal Crossing realm. He's real attached to these guys, and in this one village, he's all they talk about. He's only cheated a few times, and I'm gonna let that slide. Between us...we're cheating too. We're breakin' through to the outside world! Maybe, anywho. If I feel like it's safe enough. I might change my mind. But I don't even know why I'm tellin' ya this, Fred! Ya can't keep a secret...let this be a challenge for ya, eh?

Well, I'm almost outta room. Thanks for the memories. Time for my saga to end for now. I expected more outta my life than this. Maybe I'll get a cousin of yours. Elizabeth. Sounds like someone you'd know! WAH HA HA HA HA!

I ain't got any helpful advice to give ya except...well, just try your hardest to be the good guy. No matter what people call ya or think ya are, always, in your heart and soul, be the good guy.

RESETTI OUT!


End file.
